The Boy's Got A Chance
by cescaloca
Summary: My Master cannot dictate the fighter I become, and the battles I fight. After escaping his vice grip, I've decided to fight. Not for blood, but for the girl I love. Cheng/Mei Ying.
1. Strangling Fear

Greetings, reader. I'll rid you of these formalities and state the matter at hand.

I'm an avid fan of the Cheng/Mei Ying ship and my dear apple pie, OTPing so hard right now. I'll hopefully update every week. Hope you stay a while.

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><p>The American boy had won, and one would believe that what he's done to win was quite respectable. After months of grueling practice, he's finally beat the bully, won a glorious competition, and most definitely got the girl.<p>

But, we almost never know what happens to the bully. Until now.

He pushed his right fist unto the flat side of his left palm, just levelled with his shoulder. Bowing down ever so slowly and sincerely at the disheveled looking man, he had realized that there really was no bad student, but only a bad teacher. One that taught fear, pain, and agony.

Never lifting his head up, he rolled his eyes up to see both Mr. Han and Dre leave, followed by Ms. Parker holding a humungous trophy with Chinese inscriptions. At her tail was a giggling girl clad in yellow.

The moment she passed him by, his dark eyes darted down to his feet, feeling both regretful and embarrassed. Despite the fact that he had lost to a worthy opponent, losing a match to another boy in front of the girl you like was quite a blow to the ego. Even more so, the boy that defeated him surely got the girl.

"Mei Ying..." he mumbled to himself wistfully.

"Raise your head, boy! That man should not be paid respect!" bellowed a sweaty man, his voice raspy. As if the man had pressed a button, Cheng immediately stood erect and stiff, willing his eyes not to make any contact with his sour Master's very own eyes.

He felt calloused hands grasp his chin roughly, inflicting much pain on his part. Cheng grew up fearless of anything, but at this point in time, Cheng was smart enough to know that the best thing to do was to elude the angry gaze of the older man. Holding his chin tighter, Master Li had lifted him off the floor. Cheng was elevated two feet from the ground and his legs dangled, trying to feel the ground far from its reach. No matter how hard he tried, he could no longer dodge the gaze of the one man he might have truly feared secretly. Both his hands hooked desperately to his chin and his neck, he could no longer breathe properly.

Shaking and sweating profusely, Master Li looked at Cheng eye to eye. Cheng was sure that every single hair on his body had risen.

"You think you can defy me, boy? You can't! And after causing so much humiliation for me, in _public, _consider your life a living nightmare!" he quipped venomously, tightening his grip on Cheng's neck, eliciting a disturbing choke.

The rest of the Fighting Dragons had cowered in fear, not wishing to end in the same fate as Cheng. The other participants were shocked and speechless, their masters and coaches stood incredulous with their mouth agape. Numerous gasps could be heard from the crowds present while the authorities tried to get a hold of the situation.

A man was hurriedly sprinting towards the appalling scenario shouting angrily at the top of his lungs.

"Stop! Let go of my son right now! I'll have you fired, Li! FIRED!" yelled the man.

Master Li took his eyes away from Cheng and looked at the panting man squarely in the eye, and he dropped Cheng to the floor as if he was a candy wrapper that was of no use. Cheng fell on his back and clutched at his neck while coughing. His loud coughs receded into desperate huffs of air.

"Fire me? FIRE. ME? I run the business. I run the studio. You can't fire me. I am my own boss," spat Master Li, his voice full of malice.

He turned to his left, and proceeded to walk towards the exit of the venue. The huge crowds parted in fear to make way for him. The other Fighting Dragons hurriedly approached Cheng.

His friend Liang looked at him in the eye and spewed out a million questions. Fuzziness took over Cheng's vision and he wasn't able to see Liang clearly, nor was he able to hear.

The man in a suit ran towards the fortress of red-clad boys surrounding his child. "Cheng! Can you hear me? Cheng! Please respond!" he spoke nervously.

"Father, I..." and Cheng saw nothing.

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><p>Strange ticking noises filled his ears, and he felt as if his neck had been punctured by a thousand needles and set on fire. His whole body remained stationary and it was as if he had been thoroughly paralyzed. Daring to escape his body's lifelessness, he jerked his eyes open and he was harshly greeted by the blinding light. Cheng had shut his eyes sharply, and tried to open them slower this time.<p>

Rapid blinking brought about sights of light, but fortunate for him, his eyes were able to adjust.

"Cheng. I'm so glad you're awake," someone had spoken. He felt a warm hand slowly gliding across the wide expanse of his forearm. Short spasms of heat took over his body. He threatened to turn his head to his left, but found out that the price of doing so was heavy pain.

"Ma..." rambled a grimacing Cheng.

"Shh... everything's going to be okay. Your neck's going to be just fine."

"What happened?"

"Your Master Li he..."

A wave of fear washed over Cheng and memories of what had happened hit him like a bullet train.

"Your father had a few things to fix at work; he'll be here soon enough."

"Does Mei Ying know of this?" inquired Cheng anxiously.

"I'm not quite sure, but her parents might," answered Cheng's mother solemnly.

"Please don't let her find out. I don't want to worry her. Anything but that," he pleaded.

"I can't control fate, Cheng. But I'll try as best as I can. Son, there are some things we cannot do; no matter how hard we try. And although you've been admiring her from afar, all you can do is be friends with her," said his mother sadly.

"There's no law passed that I can't, ma. At least let me t-"

The white door flew open and a man with a white coat entered, conversing with a man in a suit—Cheng's father.

"Mr. Sun, I can assure that the latest technology in the medical field can heal your son." he heard the stranger whisper to his father.

"Ah, you're awake. Cheng, I'm Doctor Fa, and I'll be your doctor. I trust that you're feeling well?" he asked.

"Still quite sore." Cheng admitted, his voice raspy.

"Well, you'll hopefully get better within the next few days. You've been suffocated, but we were able to bring you back," relayed the doctor, smiling.

The doctor turned to his parents explaining treatments, medicines, and a few fees. He was unable to comprehend the words the doctor spoke, only seeing lips move. Cheng had lain back down, but his eyes moved to the doctor's reflective name tag. It revealed minimal of his reflection but he could see reddish bruises on his neck. Some areas of skin were covered with patches of purple. He moved his right hand towards his neck, staring blankly at the white wall. Apparently, the doctor had seen this action.

"Does it hurt, Cheng?" queried the doctor.

"Not that much. Just checking to see if it's still connected to the rest of my body. You never really know." Cheng answered hurriedly.

The doctor, surprisingly, laughed at Cheng's constant vigilance.

"Don't worry my boy, it'll stay there. We've made sure. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another patient to attend to." Said the doctor, shutting the door behind him.

Awkward silence followed.

"Cheng, the Yi's will be coming over later to check on you and-"

"Please father, don't let Mei Ying come," begged Cheng.

His father looked shocked as his head lowered.

"Has there been a fight between the two of you?" his father demanded.

"No, father. But my violent reactions might have put her off..." Cheng trailed off, unfinished.

"It's quite the blow to the ego to know you've been defeated by a supposedly weak opponent in front of a girl, but that shouldn't hinder you from seeing her," his father warned him.

"I don't want her to think I'm weak." Cheng finally confessed.

The doors once again, flung open, and a man in a fine suit walked in looking appalled, with his wife equally devastated.

"I saw what happened Cheng, and I do hope you're alright. I couldn't call for medical help fast enough," blurted the man.

"No worries, Mr. Yi. I know it's quite a bother to visit me here, but I do appreciate the care and concern you harbour," Cheng said politely.

"That's nonsense. You're like family to us. We'd never place you second, Cheng," declared Mrs. Yi.

"And don't worry; Mei Ying's going to come here any second now."

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><p>So yeah, hope you liked it. Go Chenying! :D I ship it more than anything, actually. Sorry, Dre. =)) Anyways, thank for reading, and stay tuned!<p>

Happy New Year everybody! \:D/


	2. Late Night Surprise

Hey guys! It'd be best if you read this in ½ and Dark. You know, those little options at the upper right hand corner, you can change them later on but it looks good, though.

I know this is going to be a hard fic to write since, well, Chenying isn't really canon in the first place.

After countless hours of skimming the archives of TVTropes, I have come up with this. Enjoy! :D

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><p>She can't come. She just couldn't. Despite the fact that Cheng had disappointed her over the past few weeks because of his rude behaviour, Mei Ying was still the kind of person who couldn't bear witnessing people in pain. Even if it was the somewhat cold-hearted Cheng.<p>

And the whole prospect of looking weak and being pitied was extremely bothersome to Cheng. At a younger age, he vowed to protect Mei Ying at all cost, and where was he right now? In a room with 4 white walls constrained to a hospital bed. Not exactly the most promising image of bravery and strength. He shut his eyes and sighed, hoping for the best. A healed neck, a less sinister master, and _her_.

The sound of chimes filled the closed room. Mr. Yi's eyes popped and a nervous smile played on his lips as his left hand reached for his left pocket. Cheng's eyes followed his hand, noticing his golden watch disappear into his pocket and reappear again, this time with a slick black phone in hand.

Mr. Yi took a brief glance at the device's screen trying to decipher who was calling. His eyebrows jerked up in confusion, but pressed the button nonetheless.

"Excuse me, I need to take this," he excused himself, turning his back on the other people in the room, hoping the others would not hear. Reluctantly placing the phone upon his ear, he let out a disappointed sigh.

"Where are you?" demanded Mr. Yi.

"I know he's a great friend, but Cheng is family," he insisted at the person on the phone.

"Alright, alright. But you better be aware of your curfew, young lady. I don't want you out on the streets so late at night," whispered Mr. Yi.

There was silence as Mr. Yi listened to his phone. Shutting his eyes and nodding, it seems that whatever the person said has been previously heard by the busy man.

"You're making up for it when he comes out of the hospital, though. And paying him a visit wouldn't hurt. Okay, goodbye," spoke an irritated Mr. Yi.

"Who was it?" Mrs. Yi inquired.

"Mei Ying. She said she won't be able to visit. Violin practice," announced Mr. Yi.

Cheng didn't have to look at Mei Ying's father to know that what he stated was a complete lie. He heard everything, and it seemed Mei Ying was out venturing the streets of Beijing with a certain American boy. His eyes drooped close, faking sleepiness. It hurt him to know that Mei Ying didn't even bother to visit him and check his condition. Pain welled up inside him, and tears threatened to fall in his bout of frustration and anger. He had thought that when he closed his eyes, the pain would magically fade. But there was only so much darkness could do.

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><p>Two-thirds of the Yi family eventually left along with his father that had to fix disturbances at work. Only his mother remained, seated on a chrome chair looking down serenely at her hands folded perfectly in her lap.<p>

He glanced upward and saw the wall clock's hands. 10:37 pm. Visiting hours had been long over 2 hours ago.

"You can go home, ma. I wouldn't want to be bothering you. With dad late at work, there's nobody to look over the house," said Cheng, successfully breaking the awkward silence.

"Are you sure, Cheng? Something might happen, and I don't want you hurt badly again," she responded anxiously. "I could stay, you know," she added.

"It's alright, besides, I need the time to be alone," Cheng replied.

Her mother reluctantly rose from her seat and scooped up her red purse. Footsteps resounded within the four white walls of his hospital room as his mother walked towards the white door to leave. She paid him one last look before saying good night and shutting the lights.

Darkness took over Cheng's vision.

Cheng shut his eyes and heaved out and exasperated sigh, sinking into his cold and crisp sheets. "Mei Ying." That name repeated in his head like a lost mantra without sole purpose.

His fingers twitched at his sides as he stared blankly at the white ceiling. There were more things to worry about than just Mei Ying. Master Li was still a fearsome obstacle, and his behaviour hadn't been very good either. Dre was now a better fighter than he is and the chances of revenge are still plausible. And his neck, his neck broken and horrible. So excruciatingly painful...

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><p>Cold white knuckles knocked against an ivory door. They knew that visiting hours were long over, but they had to pay him a visit. Being great friends, they'd also dish out some information that may or may not help Cheng's situation.<p>

"Who is it?" grunted a loud voice.

He coughed almost inaudibly, hoping this would change the quality of his voice.

"It's the nurse. I'm doing my final check up rounds on this floor," he squeaked out in a fake high-pitched voice.

"Alright, come in," replied the boy from the opposite side of the door.

He and his companion had laughed incredulously at themselves. The best fighter in their class, falling for their little stunt? Unheard of.

Until now.

They burst through the doors and screamed shrilly at the top of their lungs. The patient's upper torso had risen up like stiff cardboard in sheer shock and he did try to scream, but it sounded like a small vacuum sucking out dirt.

"GOT YA!" yelled the both of them.

Half of the duo went to the bed's other side, and the patient's eyes followed his form like he was a madman. The patient panted continuously as the duo stared at him like he was a new species of animal.

"So...how are you feeling?" asked one of them.

The patient had slumped back in his pillow in utter disbelief. His best friends were nothing but crazy with a drizzle of Kung Fu.

"Well, seems like he can't talk, Liang," the other whined.

"You guys are crazy. You've gone mental. I swear."

"Calm down, Cheng. It wasn't that bad."

"Yes it was, Zhuang. I mean, who does that. Besides, visiting hours are long over," Cheng warned them.

The trio's little talk was interrupted by rapid knocks on the hospital door.

"Hello, we heard some noise from this room, is everything alright in there?" inquired a female voice.

"Quick, you two, hide!" Cheng whispered inaudibly.

Liang and Zhuang jumped into action and quickly found acceptable places to hide. Liang found quite the solace in the hospital bathroom and he did make sure to shut the door quietly. Meanwhile, Zhuang fell on all fours and hid under Cheng's hospital bed. Cheng chose to play it safe and just pretended to be asleep.

The nurse had come in, and although Cheng's eyes were shut, he could still see the faint glow light from the hallways of the hospital on his eyelids.

"Well, everything seems fine..." Cheng heard the nurse whisper to herself, confused. "I guess there was some misunderstanding."

He heard the nurse's light footsteps sound farther and farther away until he finally heard the click of the door. He reopened his eyes once more. A sigh escaped his lips, but it had been unbeknownst to him that he was heaving one in.

Zhuang used his elbows alternately to get out of Cheng's bed, "Psst. Liang! The coast is all clear," yelled Zhuang.

The door burst open and came out an annoyed Liang, "Shh! Quiet, do you want us caught again?" demanded Liang, rolling his eyes at Zhuang.

Zhuang had risen from the floor, and lightly dusted himself from all the non-existent dirt that stuck to his clothes.

"Seriously? I'm sure this place doesn't have a single speck of dust. Even if you used a magnifying lens, you wouldn't find anything," declared Liang.

"Of course. I was just trying to add some realistic actions. They wouldn't dare disappoint Cheng. I mean, he _is_ from the Sun family," drawled out an arrogant Zhuang.

"Well, I can't say I completely disagree. Being a Sun has its perks," interrupted Cheng, gingerly lifting his right hand, being careful enough not to mess with his dextrose. Fingernails adjacent to his mouth, he let a puff of air greet them, and he slowly rubbed it on the cloth against his chest. Smug as ever.

"Serious business right now, Cheng. How are we going to deal with Master Li?" queried Liang.

Cheng's arms fell at his sides, and he was sure the smugness was wiped off of his face faster than a blink. Zhuang's face turned sullen, and a pang of regret hit Liang for even asking that question.

"What did happen? I never really got any news. One minute I'm getting strangled, and then I'm suddenly here," mumbled an impassive Cheng.

"Well..." started Zhuang reluctantly, "None of us actually dared to step one foot inside the studio since from a mile away, you could hear equipment getting slammed against the walls."

"I mean, we wanted to visit you and all at first, but they told us things were horrible, and we were advised to take a long, hot and refreshing shower to rejuvenate our senses and-"

"Liang. That's not what they said," Zhuang interrupted.

"Well, excuse me for making things funnier for our friend here," said Liang sarcastically.

"On to the point, they told us to go change, and we did. We were still half-scared of what Master Li did, so we were mum the whole time," relayed Liang.

"And that Wu Ping guy? With the shark hair?"

"What, Zhuang?" Cheng asked irritated.

"He's not bad. Got a few injuries and swollen limbs from you here and there but you know, he did say something that put us off," admitted Zhuang.

"And what did he say?" asked an impatient Cheng.

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><p>WATCH OUT FOR THAT CLIFF! Hope you guys liked it. I did like writing Liang and Zhuang, though. They have this whole humor thing going on. Yes, I also liked that guy (Wu Ping) in the blue team with the Mohawk. Aside from the awesome Wushu moves, he's got some pretty badass hair. Expect Harry and Wu Ping to appear on here.<p>

Hope you stay tuned, though.


	3. The Mysterious Opponent

Hey guys! I'm back with chapter 3, and it's somewhat of a flashback in Liang and Zhuang's POV. Sorry for those who dislike this method of writing. But I really want to create a great dynamic character for Wu Ping. Don't worry, Harry lovers, screen time is granted for him!

Seems like forever, but the Chenying will kick in sure enough! Enjoy! :)

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><p>The Fight Dragons had fallen in a straight and silent line headed for the shower rooms, duffels in their hands. Numerous participants had remembered them from earlier and shot them with inquisitive and curious stares as they proceeded to reach the room. Their straight line had disseminated into a mess as they entered the room, and they had situated their bags on empty benches. Others had stopped moving to merely watch them do as they please, while others tried to run out of the room unnoticed. They failed dismally.<p>

The team had peeled off their sweaty clothes and stuffed them carelessly in their bags. Clean clothes were taken out for later and the duffels had been zipped shut.

Liang and Zhuang grabbed fresh towels from the rack and tossed them to everyone on their team. Towels were wrapped around their hips and secured in place, hoping that gravity won't do too good of a job. Nonchalance took over as they delved further into the room where hot steam had greeted their skin.

If one took a closer look, every participant had at least a few bruises and swollen limbs. Some had open wounds and gashes, while others had scars to remind them of a hard fight. The marks could've fooled anyone, but the small bodies and baby faces gave them away. Give or take a few years, and some of them could play the part of ardent criminals.

Their baths had been fast and hurried, comprising of hot water, soap then a final rinse. Zhuang swiftly skidded to where his belongings were and zipped open his duffel impatiently rummaging through the dirty clothes with great annoyance.

"What are you looking for?" Liang asked with raised eyebrows.

"Well," Zhuang said, his face suddenly lighting up, "here it is. Bandages, gauze, all that stuff. Here, have some," added Zhuang as he flung the bandages to Liang, who caught it all with one hand.

It was expected and not the least bit surprising to see that everyone was bandaging themselves without needing any help. Most of them had done this for almost half of their lives. Others do piano, or violin, or gymnastics. But, for them? They do Kung Fu.

Gauze had been wrapped around their arms and legs, and they were proceeding to dress up. Liang had taken more time with his, for he was thinking of the wrongdoing he had done to the American boy. It didn't show in his sullen face, but somewhere, in the depths of his soul, no matter how cheesy it may seem for the seemingly heartless fellow, lies guilt, and a heart.

Someone had plopped down next to Liang's duffel with a loud thud. He didn't really care, but he should have.

"Well, don't you seem guilt-free," spoke the person.

Liang's head shot up, but his left hand remained stuck to his right elbow which needed gauzing.

It was Wu Ping. The opponent who came so close to kicking Cheng's rear end. So close.

His body was wet, and water from his legs had formed small pools and puddles of water under his feet. It seemed strange though since his hair was stiff, and the mohawk had not a single hair out of place.

The whole room had gone completely silent, except for the water droplets splashing onto the tiled floor. Necks snapped back gazing at the direction of the two fighters in eagerness. Eyes were glued to the scene, not even one person daring to blink in dear of missing a momentous move.

Wu Ping was bandaging his upper torso as Liang's gaze on him intensified.

"Seriously, do I look that good?" asked Wu Ping mockingly.

"Don't flatter yourself," interrupted Zhuang.

"Wasn't talking to you, hotshot," snapped back Wu Ping almost too innocently.

Everyone in the room had wide eyes, clearly seeing the potential brawl in the scenario. Zhuang threatened to hit Wu Ping who was too caught up in his bandages. Fortunately for him, Liang had blocked Zhuang's fist from making a hit.

"What do you want?" inquired Liang.

"Not much, just want to make friends. That's all. Honestly."

"We don't believe you."

"Well. I make a tremendous friend. That's a loss on your part. Besides, I'm not scared of you guys."

"You should be," threatened Liang as Zhuang stared him down.

"You guys are manageable. The only problem in this picture is the master. Your teacher's just a...Not going to say it because I'm a male of immense sophistication," declared Wu Ping pretending to sip tea from a non-existent cup as if he were a European gentleman in a royal luncheon. Several of the Fighting Dragons had snickered, but stopped in a heartbeat.

"As if, coward," taunted Zhuang.

"Sorry boys, but the manners get the ladies. And their father's approval," said Wu Ping as he winked.

"I bet big money you don't even have a girlfriend!" spat back Zhuang venomously.

"Actually, I do. She was cheering for me a while ago. She was wearing yellow. Our parents actually don't know, because they would think it's a distraction from my Kung Fu and her violin practices," replied Wu Ping.

Masks of confusion took over the other participants' faces. They were absolutely clueless as to what the three had been talking about. All of the Fighting Dragons, including Liang and Zhuang themselves, had stood frozen, their mouths agape.

"That's a lie. She would never go out with you. The whole team knows very well that Mei Ying's too good for you," spoke an angry Liang.

"Ah, that's her name. Mei Ying."

"So she's not your girlfriend?"

"Something tells me you need to take up sarcasm identification classes," answered Wu Ping.

"But how did you know she plays violin?" asked Shin, a new Fighting Dragon team member.

"Are you kidding me? The Yi's are a rich and well-known family. China's humungous, but they're not really the most normal people to date. And with a face like that, it's easy to get noticed. In fact, she doesn't have to try hard. I heard that the Yi family had a daughter with an ingenious talent for the instrument. Along with Harry who disclosed useful information, it was quite easy to know who she is and what her relations are to your... leader," said Wu Ping seriously.

"Harry? And what do you know about the Yi's and Sun's?" asked Liang sternly.

"That light-haired American with the necklace. Dre Parker's friend. I don't know who's side he's on, but it seems like he's an in between," he responded.

"You didn't answer the second question," said Zhuang over gritted teeth.

"I do hate to sound like a stalker, but Cheng comes from a well-to-do background. And so does Mei Ying. It only makes sense, don't you think? Business is always business. 'Our parents are very close.'" answered Wu Ping honestly.

"Okay, surprise quiz for everyone here. Have you guys heard of the Yi's?" he asked with a loud voice.

The Fighting Dragons had looked around, and everyone else had been nodding nervously.

"And the Sun's?" he queried, eyebrows raised.

Again, they had nodded, quite vigorously this time. The Fighting Dragons faces were listless.

"And there you go, Fighting Dragons. The Big Reveal. Everyone knows it. It's a no-brainer."

"Yeah, Wu Ping, who would've thought these two families would be intertwined in a web of drama and weird plotlines like in TV shows," someone from the opposite end of the room had interrupted.

"Shut up, Qiao. You're ruining my element, not to mention the mysterious air I've created."

"Well, hurry up, the rest and I are going. You're dragging us down," said the voice, its origins suddenly appearing in the form of a boy with a fringe across his face. He sported a blue shirt, and behind him were bored boys as well. Wu Ping had finished bandaging himself in a flash, and had clothed himself, donning a belt with studs. He grabbed his duffel and joined his team. He looked at the Fighting Dragons.

"Well, I have to go obviously. And your gauze is hanging loose. The dragon's element is fire, but I think you guys are getting pretty cold," said Wu Ping as his team laughed.

Come to think of it, Liang had though they looked pretty stupid just standing half-naked.

Wu Ping's team chattered away as the approached the exit of the room.

The other participants snapped back to reality again and had their bodies functioning properly this time.

"Oh and yeah," said Wu Ping standing by the door's threshold, "for Cheng, winning is a big deal. He doesn't want it. He needs it," he finished with a soulful gaze, almost as if he had been hitting on a girl before finally running off.

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><p>"You don't need it. You want it," said Liang to Cheng like he was some knowledgeable master.<p>

"That Wu Ping guy. Really," said Cheng, incredulous.

"I like how he talks," admitted Zhuang.

"He knows about our families. Mei Ying."

"We're not asking for a summary of the events we just relayed to you."

"And he knows the other American boy?"

"Seems like it."

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><p>Well, that was the 3rd chapter, folks! To be honest, my best friend advised that I let the participants do...manly things. Things of which I am incapable of writing because I still got a streak of innocence left in me. :)) I liked writing Wu Ping, he was cool. AND HARRY IS SO CRUCIAL IN THIS I SWEAR, SPOILER ALERT. See you soon! :D<p>

-Cesca


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